Heaven is For Angels
by Aurora Abbot
Summary: ...and Stiles isn't one. "Do you believe in hell, Derek?" Au. Set after 3x19.


Heaven is For Angels.

* * *

"Do you believe in hell, Derek?" Stiles asked, his voice soft, barely above a whisper.

Derek said nothing, only moved closer to the boy who was sitting on the floor of the old hale house. Derek didn't know why Stiles (and he hoped with every fibre of his being that this was actually Stiles) would come to this place after being gone for so long. His escape from Eichen house had sent the pack in a frenzy. They were all out looking for him right now, and Derek must have been the only one who caught his scent. Derek frowned when the boy didn't move from his place, didn't turn to face him.

Derek took a step closer and everything made a horrifying, twisted kind of sense. The smell was too hard to ignore, now that he was closer. It was a smell Derek dreaded and was too familiar with.

The smell of blood and death.

Stiles was dying.

Derek froze. His instincts were screaming at him to do something to help Stiles, but he couldn't _move_.

"Do you believe in hell, Derek?" Stiles' voice broke and Derek heard the desperation in his tone. Still, he didn't answer. Couldn't. Not until he heard a pathetic whimper escape from Stiles' lips.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. And he didn't. Heaven and hell were like black and white and Derek lived in shades of grey.

"How can you not know if you believe in something?" Stiles asked incredulously, sarcasm present in his words, as always. Derek rolled his eyes and crouched in front of the boy.

"How bad is it?" Derek asked quietly, his tone not suggesting his desire to strangle the teen for once ( though he hadn't felt that urge in almost a year now).

Stiles blinked. "Huh. All I had to do to get you to stop being a sour wolf was to get stabbed. Who knew?" Stiles said this in a breathless kind of way that confirmed Derek's thoughts.

Stiles was dying.

He took out his phone and was about to call for an ambulance when a bloody hand held onto his wrist firmly.

"Don't," Stiles pleaded.

"You're dying," Derek growled. "You idiot" was unsaid but it was implied.

Stiles laughed. The sound was dark and pained and it scared Derek more than he was willing to admit. This wasn't the Stiles he knew. No, this was a broken shell of who he was.

"That was the point of this," Stiles said, gesturing to the still bleeding hole in his stomach.

Derek rocked back on his heels, the phone slipping from his hand to fall on the cold ground. It lay there, forgotten, as Derek stated at Stiles in shock.

"You did this?" Skinny, defenseless Stiles, committing suicide?

"It had to be done," the boy told him, and damn it, he almost sounded casual about it. As if they were discussing the weather and not the fact that Stiles had stabbed himself.

"How?"

"I tricked a trickster," he laughed. "It controlled me, yeah, but it was still weak because of whatever the hell Deaton injected me with," Stiles paused to take in a shaky breath, then continued. "So I was somewhat awake while it was in control, and I made a deal. I'd cooperate fully if it let me say goodbye to my dad."

"And it agreed?"

"Yeah. Didn't think I had it in me to trick it. Wrong move, right?" When Derek's expression remained the same, Stiles rolled his eyes. "Jeez, tough crowd," he muttered.

"I'm gonna call for an-"

"I said don't!" Stiles snapped. "God damn it, Derek. I can't be the reason one of you dies, you get that? I already have too much blood on my hands and if one of you guys dies, then I'll go out of my freakin' mind, okay?"

Derek clenched his jaw, angry because he knew that if Stiles lived and the Nogitsune took over again, there's no chance of stopping him. But still, he had to try to save him, to get him to change his mind.

"We can find another way. Keep you locked up, then Scott can turn you! It will -"

"-not work, Derek. Do you think handcuffs would keep it restrained? And let's assume Scott turns me, what's to say it will affect it? Do you know that it will-" he stopped talking in favor of clenching his teeth in agony, but then the moment passed and he continued his rant- though it was punctured by wet coughs and heavy breathing. "Can you tell me that you're 100% sure that it'll work?"

Derek wanted to say yes and almost did, but he knew that Stiles doesn't need supernatural hearing to know that he's lying.

Derek settled comfortably beside Stiles, but not before covering him with his leather jacket. "Why did you come here?"

Stiles shrugged. "It was close," he answered shortly.

"Do you want me to call someone? Your dad-"

Stiles let out a strangled noise that was somewhere between a cough and a sob. "No! No one, Derek, please. Please-"

"Okay! Okay, just take it easy," he said as he put the phone down, knowing he could easily overpower the teenager and wondering why he couldn't just pick up the damn phone and call anyone and at the same time knowing exactly why. The reason was looking at him with those big brown eyes that held so much pain and desperation. " I won't call anybody, so just calm down, Stiles."

The boy breathed out a relieved sigh and whispered a quiet thank you.

Derek said nothing in return, only stared. Stiles was an enigma in every sense of the word. No one would believe him, would probably laugh in his face if he said it, but Derek knew it was the truth.

Stiles was one of those people who said a lot, but nothing that was too personal. The proof to that is that, in all the time he'd known him, Stiles had never talked about his mother or father ( unless it was to defend the old man). The boy's whole life seemed to revolve around other's, mostly Scott's. It was always about Scott. This boy had spent his entire life ( he assumed) looking after Scott, and though Derek knew Scott returned the favor many times, he had a feeling that Stiles would always care a little more.

Ever since Scott became a werewolf, Derek felt as if Stiles put his life on hold to help his friend, to try to make it easier for him. It was sad, really, knowing that this boy who cared so much, too much, would die like this; broken, bloodied and alone.

"I don't want anyone to watch me die," Stiles told him tiredly, head resting on the wall and his eyes closed. " I know what it's like to watch someone you care about die and I wouldn't wish it on anybody."

Derek frowned at that. "Who was it?"

"My mom," came the soft answer.

"When?"

"Eight years ago."

"When you were nine?!"

"Yeah."

Seconds after they both fell silent, Stiles spoke.

"I don't want to die," Stiles whimpered, his face contracted in pain and fear.

"You don't have to," Derek jumped to his feet, his phone already in his hand.

"No. I just- uh... I needed to say it out loud, to get it off my chest, you know? I need to do this, Derek. It's the only way."

Derek sat back down, his head in his hands. What was he supposed to do now? He knew that Stiles was right. It was shitty of him, but he was a little relieved because at least now no one would worry about having to kill Stiles. Which was probably the reason Stiles had done it himself.

"It's fading," Stiles whispered, an exhausted smile pulling on his cracked lips.

"What is?"

"The Nogitsune. It's fading."

"So are you," Derek pointed out, a hint of fear creeping up into his voice.

"You can go, if you want..."

"No one should die alone, Stiles."

Stiles managed to find the strength to look him in the eye. "And no one should have to watch them," he slurred. "I think it's time."

Derek watched, pained and slightly awed as a peaceful smile lit up Stiles' face as he closed his eyes.

"Do you believe in heaven, Derek?" He asked a different question this time.

Derek may live in grey, but Stiles? Stiles is all white. He's pure, innocent in ways Derek envied and was the definition of a good man. So Derek answered with a simple yes.

With a last smile, peaceful and heartbreaking, in the abandoned Hale house, Stiles Stilinski passed away.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!**_

_**One request :Review? If you don't want to, that's fine. I know what it's like to not find the words you want to say, but could you at lease favorite? so I know that people out there enjoy what I write? Ten seconds of your time would make my day!**_

_**I would like to thank my awesome friend, Jessica (lucawindmover) for giving me the push I needed to publish this! You're the reason I had the nerve to post this story, Jess! **_

**-Aurora.**


End file.
